


Boss Of You

by DropsOfStars



Series: Destiel, Oh Destiel. Wherefore Art Thou Destiel? [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Boss Dean, Boss/Employee Relationship, Castiel Does Not Understand, Castiel Loves Burgers, Castiel is a Novak, Cooking, Dean Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Loves Pie, Dean Winchester Cooks, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is In Over His Head, Helpful Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean, POV Dean Winchester, Sarcastic Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfStars/pseuds/DropsOfStars
Summary: Dean is the CEO of a major company that deals with cars. Just recently, Dean had to fire an employee who held an important position in the company. Will Dean find the perfect fit for the job, and maybe even a perfect fit for him?





	Boss Of You

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lovely beta for this fic!!! Go give [@casitels](http://casitels.tumblr.com) (on tumblr) some love!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Leave a comment below!
> 
> Here's some art drawn for this!!  
> (go check it out [](<div%20class=)[right here!!!](https://castielinparadise.tumblr.com/post/159047208099/hello-hi-i-love-your-art-its-adorable-and))

Dean had been the owner of his business, Winchester Mechanics, for about 8 years now. Not once had he had to fire an employee, until the day he found Alastair, his prized (but not liked) employee, breaking in one night and trying to get into the safe behind Dean's desk. He had already been wary of Alastair a while before he was fired, but never had a good enough reason to fire him. The man made his skin crawl every time he looked at Dean. Not only was Alastair a creep that always stared at Dean like he was a meal instead of a human being, but he was also a cheater and liar and a dirty, dirty thief. Dean was glad that Alastair was finally out of his hair, but he was less happy with the fact that he’d have to interview people to fill in Alastair’s very important chair. He despised Alastair.

While Dean was the big boss, he had other people in important positions. Charlie was his assistant and best friend, Crowley was the assistant manager, Sam was his brother and company lawyer, Kevin was the chief financial officer, Bobby was the head mechanic, and the receptionist was Alastair up until Dean fired him. Now Dean had to find another receptionist, and fast.

“Dean?” he heard Charlie say through his intercom. She knew that he needed time alone every day to think and loosen his muscles, and she would only ever interrupt him in these sessions if it was important. He had to give her examples of what he meant by “important” when she interrupted him to say that she was going to the little girl's room; she hasn’t interrupted him since.

Dean rubbed at his face with both his hands, waking himself up a little before he answered Charlie. He let out a small groan when he sat up in his chair and massaged his lower back, where it was cramping up from sitting in the same position for too long.

“Yeah, Charlie?" he said with obvious exhaustion in his voice. It had been a long day, and Dean just wanted some sleep.

"Your 4o'clock is here. Says he's here for an interview for the newly opened position," Charlie said, and Dean could practically feel her smile coming through the phone. He didn't know a single moment when he hadn't seen Charlie with a big smile plastered on her face. He chuckled to himself at the thought.

"Just send him to the meeting room. I'll be there in a few." Dean had to yell because he was collecting things for the interview. He'd totally forgotten about it. His mind was too clouded with Kevin telling him that their money was shrinking instead of growing, Crowley telling him about a minor disturbance with a recurring customer named Rufus, and having to deal with the aftermath of firing Alastair.

"I've already sent him to the room to wait for you, Dean." She said it in such a way that Dean could almost hear her eyes rolling at him through the comm. She always seemed to be one step ahead Dean's brain.

"Thanks sweetheart," he spoke fondly. He loved her like a sister he'd never wanted, or knew he needed, for that matter. They'd been best friends since they were little, and whenever Charlie got picked on for liking girls, Dean was right there with her to kick anyone's ass who tried to lay a hand on her. It was pretty much still the same today, except they were years older, and Dean had come out as bisexual to her not too long ago. She had laughed and said she'd known for a long time now.

Dean smiled at the memories of him and Charlie when they were younger, and clicked off the comm before leaving his office. If he had heard Charlie correctly, she had said that the person waiting in the conference room was a man around Dean's age. Just the thought of not knowing who was behind the doors made him anxious.

He took a deep breath and ran his right hand through his hair, a nervous habit he'd attributed from his childhood. When he walked into the room, he noticed the man had taken the seat closest to, yet facing away from, the door and that he had wild, unkempt jet-black hair. Dean stopped and slowly took a deep breath and let it out. He'd done this before, so it shouldn't be anything new to him. So far, the man hadn't seemed to notice his presence in the room.

Dean cleared his throat, mainly to draw the stranger's attention but to also get the lump in his throat to go away. The man in the chair let out a startled noise, spinning the chair around to face Dean.

Dean's breath hitched in his throat when he met the wide blue eyes of his possible employee. They were almost crystal blue; kind of like a lightning bolt or the color the sky makes when clouds are swirling around in it. Dean had never seen eyes so beautiful. (Except his own, obviously.)

They must have stared at each other for a while because Dean's legs were starting to get tired from standing in one spot for so long. He was the one to break the intense staring contest, clearing his throat and walking over to the wheeled chair on the other side of the shorter meeting table, but he could still feel the piercing gaze of the angelic man that he was going to interview. He found himself wiping his brow and loosening his dress shirt’s collar to cool down his blushing body.

“So…” he trailed off to allow the man to insert his name into the very obvious blank in the sentence. The man didn't seem to have picked up on Dean's cue, which left Dean sighing.

“What’s your name, man?” Dean asked, slowly starting to wish he'd never left his office for this pointless meeting. The guy hadn't even introduced himself! How was Dean supposed to rely on him to be a receptionist when he didn't even pick up on social cues?

“Castiel Novak, sir,” he replied, his voice husky and deep like he'd just been hardcore making out with someone. It would make sense if he was, considering his extreme sex hair. Dean found that extremely distracting. Especially with the ma- Cas. Especially with Cas locking him in place with his gaze.

Dean had plenty of crushes, and even relationships, before this. First was Jo and Lisa, then Benny a few years later, Aaron not long after, and then the most recent one being Amara. Dean knew he was a handful; his family problems, excessive drinking, low self-esteem, PTSD from childhood abuse, he was overly sarcastic, made too many pop culture references, listened to his music way too loud, called his car “Baby” (which weirded a lot of people out), he ate a shit ton, would complain if you didn’t get him pie while gone grocery shopping, and that’s just a smidge of it. None of his crushes or past girlfriends or boyfriends ever made him feel the way Cas made him feel in that moment.

Dean chuckled as he registered that Cas had called him “sir.”

“There’s no need for that, Cas. Just call me Dean,” he said with a smile, outstretching his arm so Cas could shake it. When Cas took Dean’s hand in his own, albeit after a strange look that was probably because Dean had just called him Cas, he shook it firmly, making eye contact with Dean as he did so.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said with a polite tone. Dean practically shivered when Cas said his name. It sounded so… right. He wanted to hear Cas say his name in every single way possible. No matter how odd or dirty it got.

“Alright,” Dean cleared his throat, “Why do you want this job? Is there a special reason or..”

“I like helping people. Though I do not know very much about the mechanical aspect of cars, I would be willing to learn if it were to make things easier for the other employees. If assistance is needed,” Cas stated, his eyes sparkling with joy and a smile tugging at his lips. Dean wrote down what he said word-for-word, and then sat and tapped his pen against his nose, thinking.

“How about this, Cas,” he leaned forward and gestured his hands while he spoke, “I give you the job, and everyday after work you come over to my place so I can teach you all I know about cars. Sound good?” Dean leaned back into his chair and raised his eyebrows while he waited for Cas to respond.

If it was possible to capture an emotion in a jar, Dean would have done just that with how Cas reacted. His face and eyes lit up, the smile finally winning the battle of tug-of-war and stretching to the point where Cas was practically beaming. He stood up out of his chair and walked over to Dean, who rose as well and extended his arm out for a handshake. Instead of a handshake, though, Cas hugged him. At first, Dean didn’t hug back. Hell, he didn’t know how to react. A man, an attractive one at that, who he just met was hugging him. He hesitated before hugging Cas back, his arms sliding around Cas’ rib cage, and his head lowering to rest on Cas’ shoulder.

Though he’d rather not admit it, Dean felt safe. Safer than he’d ever felt. When Cas started pulling away from the hug, Dean tightened his grip before realizing that Cas might not feel it. Feel their bond. He knew it was stupid to think that they were “bonded”, but he really felt something when he first walked into the room.

When they broke away from each other, Dean noticed a slight tint of pink on Cas’ cheeks. Before he could look closer though, Cas turned his head to the side and walked over to get his stuff. Dean watched Cas pick up a tan trenchcoat and put it on, followed by a brown satchel.

“So, when are we going to start those practice sessions?” Cas asked, his hands wrung on the satchel’s strap across his chest. Before Dean could give any further thought, he replied.

“Tomorrow at 7pm. I’ll be done with work for the day, so you can come over at around 7:15, if that works for you,” Dean explained as he studied Cas’ face. When that oh so familiar smile grew on Cas’ face, Dean couldn’t help but smile back. His smile was just too contagious for Dean to not reciprocate.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas smiled, “I shall see you then.”

“See ya, Cas.”

Once Cas had left the room, Dean reclined in his chair, running his fingers through his already spiky hair. He couldn’t help but think that this was a date. Hell, he’d planned on Cas staying for dinner after they were done for the day. He must have been sitting like that for a while because Charlie popped her head in the doorway, obviously looking for Dean.

“Hey ya, Dean! How’d it go with Mr. Trenchcoat?”

“I think I’ve got a date.”

~ ~ ~

Dean checked the clock in his garage for the fifteenth time, checking to see if the clock read “7:15” yet. He was anxious awaiting Cas’ arrival; that’s why he was already sweating and covered in grease from the Impala.

Dean had his head under the propped up hood of the Impala, Metallica blasting through his cassette player. He had tuned out any noise but used the music as background noise while he worked; normally, he would be singing along to it, but the whole “having Cas over” thing was making his nerves spike through the roof. Working on his Baby always made him calm down when he was feeling overly stressed or anxious, so he just completely focused on the junk under her trunk, not checking the clock.

“Hello Dean.” Dean jumped, slamming the back of his head into the hood of the Impala.

“Dammit, Cas! Don’t do that!” he said as he rubbed the bump that had already formed on his head. He turned around to look at Cas and greet him properly. When he saw what Cas was wearing, he almost laughed.

Cas was wearing a navy blue dress shirt with dress pants and dress shoes. Dean realised he wasn’t lying when Cas had said he knew nothing about cars and had probably never even looked under the hood of one. If he had, he'd know not to wear nice clothes that would easily get ruined by grease. He chuckled and grinned, shaking his head.

“Cas,” he started, “You can't wear nice clothes like that while working on cars. They'll get ruined.”

“Oh,” Cas quietly spoke and drooped his head towards the ground. Dean hesitated before he took a step towards Cas, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, buddy, it's alright. Why don't you just take the dress shirt off so it doesn't get dirty? I can lend you some of my clothes afterwards, if you'd like,” Dean shrugged while turning back around to work under Baby’s hood. He could feel Cas moving behind him; probably taking off the dress shirt. When he turned around, however, he could see the tan of Cas’ chest. He was confused. Normally, Dean wore a tank top underneath his dress shirt, so seeing Cas without one was confusing, but also kind of arousing.

Dean turned back around quickly, his cheeks and chest turning a deep shade of pink from seeing Cas without a shirt on. Yet again, he was thankful for the grease that was smeared all over his clothes, arms, and face. When he felt Cas looming over him, watching what he was doing, Dean stiffened and coughed.

“Alright, Cas. This is the engine. Over here is the radiator, and then this is where you put the coolant,” Dean explained, pointing all around the inside of the car and saying what each piece was and what it did to Cas.

~ ~ ~

Dean looked at Cas as he wiped his hands clean of grease. His gaze flickered all over Cas’ body, spots and smears of grease scattered across his bare chest and face. His hair was spiked up from him running his hand through it while watching Dean show him how to tighten a few things under the hood. Dean figured that Cas might want to get cleaned up, so he put the cloth that he was using to clean his hands down, and walked over to where Cas was looking into Baby’s engine compartment.

“Hey, Cas?” he asked, rubbing his neck, “Do you want to stay for dinner? I'm making burgers.” He hesitated before adding, “You can get cleaned up if you'd like.” Dean rubbed his neck, “I have some sweatpants that you can borrow too.”

“That would be lovely, Dean. Thank you,” Cas said with a small smile. Dean smiled back, then started to clean up the mess they made. He heard Cas shuffling behind him, and then say his name.

“Dean?” Cas spoke softly, “Do you have a way for me to get cleaned up before dinner?” Dean turned and looked at Cas, noting again how nice Cas’ bare chest looked with grease smeared all over it, and nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he started walking towards his bathroom, gesturing for Cas to follow him, “I've got a bathroom over here. Excellent water pressure. Plus, I've got these really nice towels that aren't too rough or too soft.” Dean walked up to the bathroom door and opened it, gesturing for Cas to go in before him. Once Cas had passed him, he followed him in, showing Cas where the towels were and saying that he was fine with Cas using his Shampoo and Body Wash.

When Dean had shown Cas where everything was in the bathroom and gave him some sweatpants to wear, he left him to shower and went into the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Before he began cooking, however, he grabbed his phone and went to his music, putting it on shuffle. He chuckled when an Elvis song came on first; Sam must've put it on his phone when he was asleep. Dean took the ground beef from his fridge, peeling off the plastic cover, and molded and seasoned them, placing them on the indoor grill he had.

As the patties cooked, Dean sliced and some tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, and onions because he wasn't sure what Cas normally put on his burgers. As if Dean thinking about him had summoned him, Cas sauntered into the room, shirtless, his hair still wet and sticking up in all different directions. Cas bowed his head and brought a towel to it, attempting to dry it. It didn't work, though; with a frustrated sigh, Cas plopped onto Dean's couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Dean couldn't help but stare. How couldn't he? Cas was toned in all the right places. His torso was lean like a runner's, but he still had defined biceps and a muscular torso. Dean didn't realize Cas had been talking to him until Cas opened his eyes and sat up.

"Are you going to get that, Dean?" he asked, gesturing towards the now beeping grill.

"Shit, yeah," Dean hurriedly lifted the grill's top and fumbled with the spatula, trying to scrape the two patties off it with one hand. He had gotten to them just in time; if they were on there a second longer, they would have burned, ruining dinner. He placed one patty on a plate, and the other on another; then he walked to his fridge, pulled out the ketchup, mustard, and cheese, and sat them down next to the plate.

“What do you want on yours, Cas?” he asked, not turning around to face the man.

“Just cheese is fine, thank you,” he heard Cas make an “mmmm” sound and then groan, “That smells absolutely delicious, Dean,” Cas said as his stomach growled.

Dean chuckled and half turned to look at Cas, who was now leaning over the couch’s rear, his chin resting on his crossed forearms. He felt Cas watching him as he turned back around and finished preparing dinner, the hairs on his neck standing on end under the intense gaze.

After Dean finished preparing dinner, he called Cas over, who promptly got up out of his prior position on the couch to join Dean, and set the table. Dean figured that Cas didn't want to sit right next to him, so he placed the plates on opposite sides of his four chair square table. He figured he had thought correct when Cas sat down without argument. Once they were both seated, he reached for his burger, entirely ready to chow down, but he stopped when Cas winced.

"What's wrong, Cas?" he cocked an eyebrow at his guest's grimace, wondering why he hadn't reached to grab his own burger.

"Don't you say Grace?" Cas asked, his brow crinkling, and his head tilting to the side. Dean hadn't deemed Castiel to be a religious guy, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense.

"We can if you'd like," Dean offered, even though he never really did say Grace. Cas nodded his head, a smile playing on his lips, and outstretched his hands to Dean, who stared at them, confused. He didn't understand why Cas was holding his hand out to Dean, until Cas jerked his head towards Dean's own hands. Blushing, he reached out and grasped Castiel’s hands, noting how soft they were compared to his calloused ones. The entire time Cas spoke, Dean didn't pay attention; all he could think about was how he was holding Cas' hands. His thoughts were broken off when Cas slid his own hands back to him, grabbing the burger and beginning to eat. For a moment, Dean is caught in his head, still thinking about how Cas’ hands felt in his. Dean was so out of it, that it took a second for him to realize that Cas asked him a question.

“What?” he asked, blush pinkening his cheeks. Cas chuckled around a mouthful of burger and repeated what he said.

“I asked if you were married. I don't see how you couldn't be with that face,” Cas bit into his burger again, oblivious, or so it seemed, to Dean's reddening face. Dean couldn't hold back the strangled laugh that bubbled in his stomach. It came out strangled and loud, drawing Castiel’s eyes to Dean's face. Cas tilts his head to the side, confused as to why Dean is laughing. After a second, Dean stops laughing and clears his throat to respond to Cas.

"I'm actually not married," he holds up his left hand, showing an obviously nonexistent wedding band. Dean watched as Cas blushed and looked down at his food; he looked embarrassed. Was it because of what he asked Dean? Or did he regret saying those things to Dean? Whatever it was, the longer he looked at Cas’ pink cheekbones, the less he wanted to know what it was at all.

Before Dean was able to excuse himself to the bathroom, Cas looked up at him, their eyes locking. He couldn't find it in himself to look away from Castiel's piercing blue gaze, and he noticed that Cas is having the same problem. They sat there staring at each other for a while, only breaking their views of the other to blink. Dean finally broke the contact, looking at Castiel’s left ring finger to see if he was married. Much to Dean's delight, he found no ring on Cas’ finger. A grin spread out across his face as he said, “Not married either?”

Dean watched Castiel’s face heat up once more, his eyes widening a little as he shook his head no and reached to take a sip of the beer Dean had placed on the table. Dean tried to hold in his smile as he made a mental check mark next to ‘single,’ but his mouth betrayed him. When he smiled at Cas, he wasn't expecting the man to smile back at him; he also wasn't expecting Cas to stand up and move into the seat adjacent to him, so when Cas did stand up, Dean stiffened, worried about what Cas was doing, but curious at the same time. After Cas had settled into the seat, he said, "Now this is much better, " under his breath. Dean grew pink as he took another swig of his own beer, Castiel’s steady gaze on him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Cas take another bite of his burger, chewing slowly, all while watching Dean. He saw a small glob of ketchup fall onto Castiel's face, just below his lower lip, and before Cas was able to grab a napkin to wipe it off, Dean reached over and swiped the ketchup off of Cas' face, sticking it into his mouth, and sucking the ketchup off it. Cas must have turned maroon as Dean pulled his finger out of his mouth with a 'pop'.

They stared at each other again, unsure of how long, just sure of the fact that that had just actually happened, the longer they looked at each other, the redder their cheeks got, and the more intense the butterflies got. Dean watched as Cas leaned forward, his lips softly touching Dean's. His shoulders tensed, but they soon relaxed as Cas deepened the kiss by gently pulling him closer to him.

Once the kiss broke off, Dean looked at Cas, his eyes smiling, and said, "Well, Cas, how do you feel about staying the night?"

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please leave a kudos or a comment! They are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Next addition to this collection should be soon (I don't know how soon)!


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